Family Business

by Michael Z. Lewin

  ‘I shall have to remember to ask Charlie for details.’

  ‘Meanwhile,’ Gina said, ‘we were talking about Howard Urcott.’

  David spotted Angelo and Muffin walking his way. He was thrilled. Seeing Muffin at all excited him. Seeing her with his father when Marie was trying on a jacket from the rack outside ‘Leathers’ while at the same time giggling with her two grungy friends was even better. David could have warned Marie of Angelo’s approach, but he didn’t.

  However at the last minute Marie spotted Angelo herself. She immediately left her friends and went to him. ‘No action so far, Dad,’ she said, as if she had been doing the job properly all along.

  There was nothing David could say. Especially not in front of Muffin.

  ‘Stick with it,’ Angelo said.

  ‘Nice jacket, Marie,’ Muffin said. ‘Hi there, Davey.’

  ‘Do you like it?’ Marie said. She spun to show the jacket off from all angles.

  ‘Hi,’ David said. He wanted to ask Muffin when she was going to come to the house to show him sophisticated tricks on the computer. When she was going to win her bet with Marie. He opened his mouth, but his father spoke first.

  ‘I’ll be out of the office for a bit,’ Angelo said. ‘But ring in anyway. Leave a message on the machine.’

  ‘OK, Dad,’ Marie said brightly.

  ‘Back to work now,’ Angelo said. He and Muffin walked on.

  ‘Bye, Dad,’ David said. ‘Bye, Muffin!’ Marie returned to her friends.

  David looked after Muffin and his father. Then he checked his watch and got out his notebook. ‘14.36. Dad and Muffin walked by, heading south. Dad says he’ll be out for a bit.’ He closed his notebook. It was then it hit him. Muffin! She left a message last night! I didn’t tell anyone. Oh no!

  ‘Howard Urcott was not a happy camper when I interviewed him,’ Varden said. ‘He was genuinely upset. He assumed that Adamson’s death meant he would lose his job. After a taste of employment and independence I don’t think he fancied being around his mother’s house all the time.’

  ‘You had reason to believe he was involved in the murder, then?’

  ‘To tell you the truth, Gina, it did not cross my mind that he would have it in him. He’s a very odd young man, to be sure. But he seemed so meek. He actually cringed whenever I made a quick movement. And there wasn’t the slightest suggestion of a motive.’

  ‘He did gain from the killing.’

  ‘That’s true, as things have worked out. Do you have some reason to suspect him? Is that what this is about?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Gina said. ‘I only found out about the murder today. But our case does involve Howard Urcott, and what we are working on doesn’t suggest someone silent or meek. More someone socially inept.’

  Varden shrugged. ‘He did have an alibi of sorts. The Medical Examiner said Adamson was hit in the late evening, but according to Mother Urcott young Howard went to his room at eight and didn’t come down again until morning.’

  ‘Eight?’ Gina said. ‘This boy does make me uneasy.’

  ‘He goes in for video games. They were the first things he bought with his earnings. But Mother Urcott swore most convincingly that if Howard had come down the stairs she would have known, even after she went to bed. It seems that the creaking would inevitably have awakened her.’

  ‘But doesn’t Howard’s bedroom have a window?’ Gina asked.

  When Angelo and Muffin had turned a corner, Angelo said, ‘Did you notice the two boys?’

  ‘In front of the shop?’ Muffin asked. ‘Is that who the kids are following?’

  ‘No no,’ Angelo said. ‘They were talking to Marie. I just wondered if you heard what they said as we went past.’

  ‘I didn’t. Sorry,’ Muffin said.

  ‘Didn’t catch a name? Terry maybe?’

  The Old Man stood by the coat cupboard. Should he wear a coat? But it was a sunny day. He went to the door.

  ‘You’re not going out without your coat, are you?’ Mama said.

  ‘Who needs it?’ the Old Man said. But he turned back and took his jacket from its hanger. Mama helped him put it on.

  ‘So how was the case left?’ Gina asked.

  ‘With no other leads I decided that the only chance was to wait for the antique weapons to turn up. We were fortunate to have photographs and detailed descriptions. If they appear at clubs or specialist dealers anywhere in this country—or Scotland—I’ll hear about it.’

  ‘But they haven’t appeared.’

  ‘Not so far.’

  ‘And does that surprise you?’

  ‘It does, rather. The weapons are English. Good quality, but not so special as to be of particular interest abroad.’

  Gina frowned as she absorbed this information, but her concentration was broken by the arrival of the sweets trolley.

  ‘Gina?’ Varden asked.

  ‘Go for the monte bianco,’ Gina said. ‘Then tell me in more detail about the murder scene.’

  ‘I never read Jane Austen,’ Muffin said, ‘but now I’ve been here, and seen all these places from her books it’s going to be fun.’

  ‘This is Henrietta Park,’ Angelo said. ‘And down here …’

  Angelo led her through a wrought-iron gate. ‘This little garden was specially planted for its scent.’

  ‘Gosh.’

  ‘Emperor Haile Selassie walked through here every day when he was in exile.’

  ‘An emperor?’

  ‘That’s right. He was in this country from 1936 to 1941, while we occupied Ethiopia.’

  ‘England occupied Ethiopia?’

  ‘Not England,’ Angelo said. ‘Italy.’

  The policeman had already walked past once before. David had noticed and even considered recording the fact in his notebook. But this time the policeman stopped. ‘A word, please, you two.’

  ‘Us?’ Marie said.

  ‘That’s right. You, and him.’

  ‘What can we do for you, officer?’ David said.

  ‘You can tell me what you’re up to.’

  ‘We’re not up to anything,’ Marie said.

  ‘So why have you been hanging around outside this shop since ten this morning?’

  ‘Since 10.31,’ David said.

  ‘Why?’

  David and Marie looked at each other. ‘What’s your game?’ the policeman said more forcefully.

  ‘Is there some problem, officer?’ Marie said sweetly.

  ‘I’ve had a complaint.’

  ‘But we haven’t done anything,’ David said.

  ‘So you’ll be happy to move along?’ the policeman said.

  Angelo and Muffin sat on a wooden bench in a bower of roses and honeysuckles.

  ‘Tell me,’ Muffin said, ‘do you feel more Italian or English?’

  ‘I was born here,’ Angelo said. ‘I grew up here.’

  ‘Do you speak Italian?’

  ‘We used to with Papa, when we were children. But Mama wanted us to speak English. To help her learn, she said.’

  ‘I like your Mama.’

  ‘Me too,’ Angelo said.

  ‘Do you go to Italy?’

  ‘Not so often now.’

  ‘But do you like it there?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ He smiled. ‘Especially the olives.’

  ‘Are they different?’

  ‘Here,’ he said, spreading his hands, ‘you get one kind or maybe two. There whole stalls in the market offer different olives.’

  A duck landed in the rectangular pond at the centre of the garden. Bees buzzed. Butterflies rose and fell.

  ‘This place is wonderful!’ Muffin said.

  ‘I like it,’ Angelo said. ‘I come here when I have things to think about. When life seems complicated.’

  Muffin nodded, and looked around again. ‘I’m so unhappy, Angelo,’ she said.

  Angelo was taken aback by the direct, personal statement. He was uncertain, even, what she had said.

  Muffin said, ‘I’m so, so
unhappy. I can’t get anything right. My whole life is a mess.’

  ‘Do you … Is it that … Would you like to talk about it?’

  ‘I already did. A bit. A tiny bit.’

  ‘Did you?’ Angelo said.

  ‘It was at dinner the other night. The first dinner. Oh, that was so neat, being there with you guys. You all really have it worked out, don’t you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Your lives and everything. You all know who you are and what you do. Everybody gets along so well. And you all pull in the same direction, even those great kids of yours. When I think about what I was like at their age … Wow, it’s a bad memory. But your kids, they already know more about life than I do now. I’m only twenty-seven, but sometimes I wonder how I’ve screwed up so much in such a short time.’

  There was a pause as Angelo tried to work out how he would lead the conversation if he were with a client. He said, ‘Are you talking screwed-up professionally, or screwed-up personally?’

  ‘Professionally I’m a star,’ Muffin said. ‘Personally I’m a fuck-up. Pardon my French. Or I guess maybe I should say my Italian.’

  After another moment Angelo said, ‘I still don’t remember what you told us at dinner.’

  ‘No,’ Muffin said. ‘And why should you? With all the work you do and all the things you have to think about. It was when we were talking about that dish-washing detergent man. He didn’t notice a bottle that was left out. Remember him?’

  ‘I remember him,’ Angelo said.

  ‘We were hypothesizing about what could be distracting him. Your dad thought it might be another woman. Do you remember?’

  ‘I remember,’ Angelo said.

  ‘Well, I said that it didn’t have to be a big thing to distract him. It could be like a girl he started by waving at, only it grew and he could end up by being obsessed with her.’

  ‘And Mama asked if you were talking from personal experience,’ Angelo said.

  ‘That’s right! Gosh, you do remember!’

  ‘You described something from America, from your laboratory. Was it a man who walked past your door who caused you trouble?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Muffin said. ‘Only it wasn’t past the door, and it wasn’t the guy. The one who caused the trouble was me.’

  ‘Oh yeah!’ the policeman said. ‘Pull the other one.’

  ‘We are private detectives,’ David insisted.

  ‘So where are your magnifying glasses? And you’re not carrying a “rod” in that pocket, are you, lad?’

  ‘It’s my notebook,’ David said.

  ‘It’s true, officer,’ Marie said. ‘We’re on a job.’

  ‘What job?’ the policeman asked.

  David and Marie exchanged glances. David said, ‘There are some people we have to follow if they go anywhere. Look at my notebook if you don’t believe us.’ David opened the notebook and held it out.

  With a sigh the policeman looked through David’s three pages of surveillance notes. Eventually he said, ‘Where does it say who you’re watching?’

  ‘I don’t think we can tell you that,’ David said. ‘Can we?’ he asked Marie.

  ‘Dad didn’t say.’

  ‘Sorry,’ David said.

  ‘“Dad didn’t say”?’ the policeman said. He handed the notebook back. ‘Well, did Dad say just what he wanted you out of the house for? Because that’s what it sounds like to me.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ David insisted. ‘Dad’s a private detective too.’

  ‘So why isn’t he out here? Or maybe he is.’ The policeman looked around. He lifted the arms of one of the leather jackets. ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are.’

  Anger began to replace David’s trepidation. ‘You’re not taking this seriously!’

  ‘True,’ the policeman said. ‘And frankly I don’t really care if you are playing detectives or not. We’ve had a complaint. And if you don’t want me to take more drastic action, you will move well away from here.’

  ‘Who complained?’ David asked.

  ‘Sorry,’ the policeman said. ‘My dad told me not to tell.’

  ‘We need to know,’ David insisted. He was fearful that it was the Shaylers.

  ‘Tough,’ the policeman said. ‘We’ve had a complaint. I’m checking it out. And as far as I can tell, you two are loitering here with, as they say, intent. You have not explained your continued presence to my satisfaction. If you don’t agree to move voluntarily, I will have to take further measures.’

  ‘But that’s not fair!’ David said.

  From behind David a new voice entered the conversation. ‘What’s the problem here, officer? These two miscreants throwing stones at passing cars, or what?’

  David and Marie turned to the new accuser.

  ‘Do you know these young people, sir?’ the policeman said.

  ‘I ought to,’ the Old Man said. ‘I’m their grandfather.’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ the policeman said. ‘You’re a private detective too.’

  ‘I am,’ the Old Man said proudly.

  With a sigh the policeman said, ‘Well then, sir, perhaps you could explain to me why these two youngsters have been standing outside this shop for the past four hours doing nothing except try on jackets and hold conversations with people passing by.’

  ‘Explain?’ the Old Man said.

  ‘That’s right, sir. Just what are they up to?’

  ‘How should I know?’ the Old Man said. ‘Nobody tells me anything.’

  ‘Grandad!’ Marie said.

  ‘Well, they don’t.’

  ‘In that case, sir, perhaps you would assist me in another way, by convincing them to move!’

  ‘Where to?’ the Old Man asked.

  But Marie tugged at the Old Man’s sleeve. ‘Grandad. Grandad?’

  ‘Watch the jacket, Marie,’ the Old Man said.

  ‘Grandad!’ Marie said. ‘The Shaylers have just come out of their house!’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘So,’ Charlie said, ‘was Roger helpful?’

  ‘Very,’ Gina said. ‘And his recall of the details of the Adamson case was impressive.’

  ‘He’s ambitious,’ Charlie said. ‘And any unsolved murder case has the potential to advance a career.’

  ‘Well,’ Gina said, ‘how about your career, Charlie? Are you ambitious?’

  Charlie studied her face. ‘What are you getting at? What do you know that you didn’t tell Varden?’

  ‘It’s what he told me.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘He says antique firearms were stolen, but nothing else, not even the cash out of Adamson’s wallet. A few things like that struck me as odd.’

  ‘Oh,’ Charlie said.

  ‘It’s probably just that I don’t know enough,’ Gina said. ‘So, I thought you might be able to run me off a copy of everything in the case file. I’ll sit in a corner. I’ll be invisible.’

  ‘I wouldn’t … I couldn’t let Tom alone,’ Muffin said. ‘I thought about him all the time. If I was in the lab, I’d lift things up so an invisible “he” could see what I was doing. If I was working on my thesis, I’d talk to him in my head. I’d say, “Tom, is that a good point, or not?” And of course, I made a nuisance of myself. I’d walk past his apartment again and again. I’d wait outside a movie house or a restaurant if I knew he was going to be there. I called him all the time. I’d do anything for a chance to see him. For a chance to get a word with him. For a chance to touch him.’

  ‘And what did he think about this?’ Angelo asked.

  ‘He … didn’t realize how serious it was. At first.’

  ‘Flattered?’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Was he responsive?’

  Muffin said, ‘Responsive-real? Or responsive-in-my-head?’ She turned away, but abruptly swung her head back to look into Angelo’s eyes. ‘Oh he was responsive in the beginning, all right. He was attracted to me. He—what do you say here? Fancied? He “fancied” me. I was young.
I was throwing myself at him. I’m pretty. He did what any man would do.’

  ‘Would you say he gave you encouragement?’

  ‘Angelo, honey, if that man inhaled and then looked at me, I’d take the fact he breathed out again as encouragement.’

  ‘But how did it start?’

  The question took Muffin into a happier past. ‘It started the first time I saw him. He was scolding some students, some other students, really giving them what-for because they’d dropped two soda cans and an empty potato chip bag on the grass in front of the library. He stood there with his hands on his hips, and he made these guys pick the stuff up. And I watched him do it. Then, when they’d put everything in the trash can, Tom turned my way. He didn’t know I was there. He didn’t know I’d been watching. But as soon as he saw me, this big grin spread all over his face, and I knew that he had been faking the tough stuff with the kids, bluffing them. That if they’d told him to butt out there wouldn’t have been a thing he could have done about it. But he had bluffed them and won and it was a feeling he liked. And I knew, right away, that he had won me too.’

  ‘When was that?’ Angelo asked.

  ‘Two years, three months and eleven days ago.’

  ‘And when did it end?’

  ‘It didn’t,’ Muffin said. ‘I’m here in Bath, aren’t I? Why do you think that happened? Because I followed him here, that’s why.’

  At the end of the short path that led from their front door to the pavement, the Shaylers turned and walked past the house of their bird-fancying neighbour. They walked slowly. They walked hand-in-hand.

  The Old Man, David and Marie left the front of the leather jacket shop with a synchronicity that startled the policeman. As the detection of Lunghis tracked their ‘targets’, David made entries in his notebook.

  The Shaylers waited for a gap in the traffic and then crossed the street. They arrived on the opposite pavement only a few yards in front of where the Lunghi trio now stood.

  Each Lunghi was aware of never having met either Shayler face to face. But had the others? And where were the Shaylers headed?

  The second question was soon answered. The Shaylers stopped outside the twin doors that led to the Lunghis’ home and office. Mrs Shayler tried the handle to the office door. When she found it locked, she pushed the door bell to the house.